Reconciliation
by Eregnar
Summary: After the defeat of Empress Acina, Malavai Quinn surrenders to the Eternal Alliance out of loyalty to the Sith Warrior. The Warrior forgives him, but in order to win his freedom, Quinn must also convince the Jedi Commander of the Alliance that he is trustworthy.
1. Chapter 1

**Iokath, Post Confrontation with Acina and Tyth**

Days went by before Psawl showed any signs of life. Captain Dorne proved her worth yet again as she applied her considerable medical knowledge to nursing the Commander back to health. Her former commanding officer, Colonel Siwala Ward, set up a 24 hour guard around the control center where he was being housed, and often took shifts herself, using the time to catch up with her associate. For Otienoh's part, when he wasn't out fragging droids or beating back Imperial incursions, he stalked the halls moodily, berating himself for failing to protect his frie… charge.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Otienoh received word that the alliance commander was stirring. He rushed to the control center as quickly as he could while maintaining his dignity. He tried not to lose his temper when Siwala's troops stopped him at the door to check his clearance, but in a surprising lapse of her usual attitude towards Sith, Siwala herself ordered for him to be let through. He met Lana and Theron at the commander's bedside just as the pureblood Jedi was blinking awake.

"Lana…" Psawl murmured, his eyes glassy and unfocused from his long sleep. Lana smiled with relief.

"Don't worry, Commander. You're safe."

Psawl looked around the room, still rather dazed. "I… found the super-weapon. It… was a giant droid…"

"I know." Lana said. "You've been talking in your sleep."

Theron approached the bed. "I almost had to stuff a sock in your mouth," he added dryly. Psawl chuckled weakly, and then glanced to where Otienoh was hanging back.

"I offered one of Pierce's," he said, "but Captain Dorne vetoed me. She insisted that the droid had done enough damage already." Psawl barked out a laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough. Captain Dorne started toward the bed, concern and disapproval etched on her face, but Psawl held up one hand to stop her. He coughed a few more times, and then cleared his throat.

"The… droid. What happened to it?" he asked, once he caught his breath.

"Whatever it is, you knocked it out of commission with the Eternal Fleet," Theron answered. Psawl started to smile with relief, but Theron continued: "Now it's recharging – and gearing up for a counter-attack."

"Which is why we must strike soon," Lana added. "Hesitate too long, and the titan may destroy us all."

Psawl forced himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He nodded thoughtfully, but his mind seemed far off. Finally, he shook his head and sighed.

"Someone betrayed me," he said. The room fell dead silent. "They lured me into that death trap and sabotaged the throne – just like they tricked all of us into fighting a war on Iokath."

Otienoh slammed his fist into the nearest piece of machinery, his blood boiling with rage. "I knew there was something rotten about all this," he seethed.

Lana and Theron seemed troubled too, but they handled their emotions much more sedately. "The conspiracy cuts deeper than we imagined," Lana said softly.

"Sounds like an inside job, alright," Theron agreed. "Only a handful of people could get close enough to sabotage the throne."

"Who could have done such a thing?" Lana wondered.

Psawl rose shakily to his feet. "I don't know. Malcom, Arcann, Senya, it could be almost anyone."

"If we're tallying suspects, we have to consider Aygo, Vizla, Satele, and the entire Alliance army…" Lana added.

"Not to mention Lana, Otienoh," Otienoh glared, but Theron ignored him. "Hell, even me."

"Whoever it is," Psawl said, "I want them rooted out. Quickly."

"With pleasure," Otienoh said, reaching for his lightsaber.

"Whoa. Slow down," Theron said. "We need to go about this smart, not charge in like a concussed rancor."

"And what does _that_ mean?" Otienoh asked coldly.

"Quiet, both of you." Lana said, looking thoughtful. "There's only one solution. You must monitor everyone." All three listeners stiffened.

"Hold on minister of paranoia," Theron interjected, holding up his hands as if trying to physically stave off her idea. "You can't invade everyone's privacy to sniff out a single rat."

"I can't, but the commander can." She faced Psawl squarely. "Give the order, and I'll begin surveillance of everyone, even Theron, Otienoh and myself. It's the only way to flush out the traitor."

Psawl stepped a few paces away, considering, then turned to Otienoh.

"You have a strong opinion on this," he stated.

"No I don't," Otienoh denied and turned away, but Psawl wasn't fooled.

"Otienoh…"

The other man had his back to them, speaking so that he didn't have to look any of them in the eye. He twisted his lightsaber in his off hand while he talked. "As much as I hate to agree with Theron…"

"Gee, thanks big guy."

"…When I was still Vitiate's Wrath, on Rishi… it came to my attention that the emperor had hidden droids on my ship, to spy on my every action. It was hardly the only reason, but it certainly contributed to my turning against him. I don't think it prudent to risk alienating everyone in pursuit of a single spy. Not when other tactics are available."

Psawl nodded in agreement. "I won't let one traitor turn me against my followers. They've earned my trust."

"I'm glad someone hasn't lost their mind," Theron said, relieved. Lana did not share the sentiment.

"Trust is a risk, now more than ever," she said.

"Commander!" Malcom's enthusiastic voice drifted across the room. All eyes turned to him as he came striding towards the group. Psawl went to meet him, the others following.

"I knew you'd pull through," Malcom grinned, "and back in fighting shape, no less! I hope you're ready to return to the front lines." Otienoh frowned at Malcom, making a mental note to keep an eye on Psawl's condition, since apparently Force-blinds couldn't tell when Force-sensitives were masking their weariness.

Psawl, of course, maintained his façade and responded in kind. "We took down Acina and stopped the Apocalypse. I'd say we've earned a breather."

"I'll drink to that!" Malcom agreed. "But don't celebrate too hard. We need you back on the battlefield." The group started walking back to the front of the command center. "You won a major victory by neutralizing Acina," Malcom continued, "but the Empire refuses to surrender. They're still fighting tooth and nail for control of Iokath."

"They're still desperate to claim the super-weapon," Psawl observed. "If we take it first, they'll have no choice but to surrender."

"Then that's where we set our sights! But we can't stop there… We need to keep hammering the Empire. Day by day. Hour by hour. Only then will we win this war."

Otienoh felt bile rise in his throat as he recalled all of the good people he'd known in the Empire. For all its sanctimoniousness, the Republic was far too eager to ignore the innocents and heroes who suffered in their attacks. He started tapping his fingers in rhythm, looking at the floor opposite Malcom. He was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn't notice Colonel Siwala approaching until she'd cleared her throat.

"Commander?" She asked, causing Otienoh to start and the rest of the group to turn their attention towards her. She was leading two of her troops – one Republic and one Alliance- and escorting a very familiar, shackled prisoner.

"Quinn?" Otienoh asked, surprised out of his stupor at the sight of his old captain standing before him in chains. "What do you think you're doing here?" Quinn opened his mouth to reply, but the colonel interrupted.

"Sir," she addressed Psawl, saluting briefly. "This Imp surrendered to us on the condition that he be allowed a word with 'The Wrath.' What are your orders?"

"That would be up to him," Psawl said, nodding at Otienoh. Otienoh examined Quinn, standing straight and tall as ever despite the binders. When Otienoh caught Quinn's eye, though, the man lowered his gaze, bowed his head, and kept it there.

"I'll speak with him. Remove his restraints." Quinn glanced up in surprise, and Siwala started to protest, but Otienoh cut her off. "I'm sure I can handle one unarmed man should he decide to attack. Besides, the major will behave himself while I'm here, won't you Quinn?"

"Of course, my lord," Quinn said, bowing his head again. Siwala cast a dubious glance at Psawl, but the commander nodded, and Siwala motioned for the guards to un-cuff him. Quinn rubbed his wrists, getting the circulation going properly again.

"We'll give you two a moment alone," Psawl offered, and the knot of people dispersed, leaving Quinn and Otienoh as alone as two people could be in the command center.

Otienoh slowly approached his former subordinate, bits of old memories, good and bad, flitting through his mind. "It's been a long time, Quinn."

His neutral tone must have encouraged Quinn, because the major visibly relaxed before returning to his customary, proud posture. "Too long," he agreed. "After you disappeared, I spent months on the hunt. Minister Lorman even heard about my crusade and ordered me to call off the search. He wanted the Emperor's Wrath to 'stay missing.'"

Otienoh snorted. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Weasel of a man." He and Quinn began to walk together past the holo-viewer that dominated the front of the room.

"Indeed, my lord. Naturally, I refused… and found myself in Imperial prison." Quinn drew a shaky breath. "I was locked away for years until Empress Acina pardoned me shortly before the commander retired the poor minister."

"Yet still you stayed in hiding."

Quinn paused and studied his shoes. "I actually tried to approach you, once. When you escorted the commander on his visit with Acina on Dromund Kaas. But I lost my nerve."

"And now that you have another chance to speak with me, it's off to prison again."

There was a moment of silence, and then Quinn turned to face his former master, a desperate plea in his eyes. "Before they lock me away, I have to tell you how much I valued our time together." Otienoh jerked his head away, glaring at the floor, jaw tensed as suppressed emotions started eating at the edge of his awareness, but Quinn barreled on. "If you would care to ask the commander to pardon my crimes, I would gladly return as your humble and dutiful servant."

Quinn bowed again, but Otienoh's mind was elsewhere. Visions flitted before his eyes one after another. Quinn kneeling to first swear his loyalty. Quinn's derisive sneer when he revealed his betrayal. Quinn's broken body trembling after his trap failed to kill his lord. Psawl's broken body lying for days on a cot, barely clinging to life. Psawl's haunted eyes as he revealed he had been set up. Darth Vowran commending Quinn's bravery. Quinn throwing a flash-bang and escaping when the Alliance chose to side with the Republic. Quinn's last desperate attempt to stop Acina when Otienoh had appealed to his loyalty to the Empire over its Empress…

Otienoh forcibly pushed the memories aside and returned his gaze to Quinn. The man was shaking, his usually immaculate uniform drenched with sweat, terror and shame rolling off of him in waves. Otienoh got the impression that his pride was the only thing preventing him from falling to his knees to beg forgiveness.

Otienoh put a hand on Quinn's shoulder. The man stiffened and nervously met his gaze. "We've had our ups and downs, Quinn. But you've served me well," Otienoh said. Surprised hope began to dawn in Quinn's eyes. "I will speak with the commander on your behalf. I'm confident you won't be stuck in a cell for long."

Quinn sagged with relief. "Thank you, my lord. You're too kind."

"But Quinn," he added, and Quinn turned his attention to Otienoh once more. "I'm trusting you." He got a hard gleam in his eye. "Don't disappoint my faith in you again, or nobody, not even the most skilled of Malcom's spies, will be able to find you."

Quinn visibly paled. "I… won't tempt fate, my lord."

Otienoh slumped, suddenly feeling drained. He motioned for Siwala's guards, and they came, replaced Quinn's binders, and led him away to a holding cell. Psawl and Malcom were a ways off discussing tactics, but Lana and Theron sidled up to Otienoh as soon as Quinn was out of sight.

"How much did you hear?" Otienoh asked, not glancing at either of them, but walking toward the window to gaze out over Iokath.

"Pretty much all of it," Theron admitted. He gestured back and forth between himself and Lana. "Spies." He cleared his throat. "I know you two have a lot of history, but he could be our traitor."

"The question is," Lana said, "do you trust Major Quinn?"

Otienoh took a moment to think, massaging his temples against a tension headache that was creeping up on him. "Quinn and I have endured a great deal together. He's a good man. But he did betray me once already. I can't be completely certain he wouldn't target the commander. And nobody can be above suspicion. If and when he is released from prison, we should keep a close eye on him."

"I'll see to it," Theron assured him.

"If he's hiding anything, we'll find it," Lana agreed.

"I'll promise you right now," Theron said, looking out over Iokath himself. "Whoever this traitor is, we'll find them."

"And we'll make them pay," Lana added, her voice soft and dangerous.

Otienoh made a fist and pressed it against the window pane. "We certainly will." He glanced at his two companions, all of them united in their determination to protect their commander. "Now let's go win the war they started."

Theron nodded. "For the Eternal Alliance."

Lana stared off over the horizon. "May the Force Serve us well.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passes slowly in a cell, but Quinn was able to approximate based on the meals he had been given. By his calculations, he had been locked up for just over three days. As detainment centers went, Quinn had little to complain about. His cell was climate-controlled, lit by a full-spectrum light, and contained a passably comfortable cot with clean sheets and blankets and refresher facilities hidden from the view of other prisoners, if not the security holos. The meals were sufficient and no one had injured or otherwise mistreated him. Still, Quinn was a soldier and a highly intelligent man. The lack of physical and mental stimulation was beginning to wear on him, and the confinement was calling up memories of his imperial imprisonment which he would have preferred to stay buried.

That was why he was surprised and delighted when one of the guards informed him that he had a visitor. The man delivered the news with a twinkle in his eye. He was former imperial who had served under Moff Broysc, and was therefore positively inclined towards Quinn. Quinn, for his part, straightened his prison-issue garments as best he could, took a deep breath, and held out his hands to be cuffed.

After the binders had been secured on his wrists, Quinn was led to a separate meeting room where he was instructed to take a seat at a table. The table had a magnetic plate for holding a cuffed prisoner in place, so Quinn was surprised when his restraints were removed instead of locked down. After he was situated, his guard took up a post by the door they had entered, and nodded to a guard across the room. That guard returned the nod and exited through the far door, presumably to fetch Quinn's visitor.

Quinn had suspected the identity of his guest, but his stomach still gave an apprehensive twist when Lord Otienoh Lorcan entered the room.

"My lord!" He exclaimed, instinctually rising to his feet, but he froze when he heard the sound of blaster safeties clicking off. All four guards in the room had their weapons trained on his chest. Lord Otienoh waved them off, and after a moment's hesitation, the guards lowered their blasters. The Sith lord sank into the chair across the table from Quinn and motioned for Quinn to resume his seat. Slowly, Quinn complied.

"So, Major. How are you holding up?" his lord queried, as casually as if he'd been asking for a report on his ship's engine performance.

"Well enough, my lord." Quinn bobbed his head respectfully. "Though I must admit, one can only count the tiles in the ceiling so many times before the novelty wears off."

Lord Otienoh smiled ruefully. "I brought you a care-package." He set a parcel on the table and slid it across to Quinn. "It should help alleviate the boredom, at least for a while."

Quinn could only stare at the package. It showed signs of being searched, of course: a reasonable precaution; he would have ordered the same. But it was the implications of the package that gave Quinn pause. When Quinn had been arrested, Lord Otienoh had been… mercurial… constantly flickering between anger and relief, soothing and threatening. Quinn hadn't been sure before, but perhaps this… Perhaps this meant he truly was forgiven.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Lord Otienoh asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. Quinn blinked.

"Yes… of course," he said softly, and unwrapped the parcel. He reached his hand inside and it closed around a smaller box. When he lifted it out, a familiar, pleasant smell emanated from it. He opened it eagerly and breathed deeply of its contents: bags of his favorite variety of tea. Even if he couldn't get his hands on hot water, the smell would be soothing. He glanced up at Lord Otienoh, who was looking very pleased with himself at Quinn's reaction. Further examination of the parcel produced various other edibles: small treats to break up the monotony of prison food.

The next two items Quinn removed caught him by surprise. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he lifted out a pair of misshapen, brightly colored socks and a flimsiplast romance novel.

"Forgive me, my lord, but…"

Lord Otienoh smiled sheepishly. "Vette might have helped," he said. "One of the Jedi apprentices is trying to teach her how to knit. She said we could match." He pulled an identical pair of gaudy socks from a pocket in his robes, looking both fond and slightly embarrassed. "I don't know what she was thinking with the novel."

Despite himself, Quinn felt a chuckle rising up in his chest. He never knew quite what to make of his lord's wife. She was certainly a… unique… individual.

"There's one more thing in there, Quinn. Don't worry. This one's from me. Go on." Quinn obediently removed the last item from the parcel.

It was a flimsiplast copy of the Alliance regulations. To Quinn's horror, he felt tears spring to his eyes. Not only was it a thoughtful gift to stave off boredom, but it promised so much. If Lord Otienoh was giving him Alliance regulations to read, perhaps that meant…

"My lord?" He looked up; desperately hoping his tears would stay in his eyes where they belonged. "Might I inquire…?"

"The commander's reviewing your case," Lord Otienoh interrupted with a smile. "They still have some background checks to run, records to examine, that sort of thing, but it shouldn't be long now. You'll have your answer soon."

Now Quinn was struggling not to cry in earnest. "My lord, whatever decision the commander makes," he said around the lump in his throat, "thank you for all that you've done for me."

"My pleasure, Quinn," Lord Otienoh replied softly, and they sat for a while in companionable silence.

Sooner than Quinn would have liked, his lord shifted in his seat and started to stand. "I have to be going now, Quinn," he said. "I have a war to fight."

"Of course, my lord." Quinn bowed his head, but remembering the guards' previous reaction, stayed in his seat. "I wish you well."

"Likewise, old friend," Lord Otienoh replied. And then he was gone.

When the guards had deposited Quinn back in his cell, he sat on his bed for a while, processing all that had happened. He had no idea what call the commander would make regarding his incarceration, but his lord's visit had given him something he hadn't had in a long time: hope.

Silently, Quinn opened his box of tea and set it on the shelf beside his cot, flooding the room with its delicious scent. After a moment, he pulled on the socks Vette had made for him. Tasteless they may have been, but they were warm and soft and comforting. He curled up on his bed, reading through his book of regulations until night fell and he drifted off to sleep: the first truly peaceful sleep he'd had in six years.


	3. Chapter 3

Major Malavai Quinn. What kind of man was he?

Psawl had met the major a few times in the past, mostly during the business with the Revanites. His first distinct memory of the man was an awkward confrontation on Rishi, involving Quinn, Rusk, and leveled blasters. After getting _that_ mess sorted out, he'd had little thought to spare for Otienoh's retinue, the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance and all. For all intents and purposes, Quinn was a stranger. And as much as he wanted to grant Otienoh's request to pardon the man, Psawl had to think of the Alliance first. He had to know whether Major Quinn could be trusted with his freedom.

His inquiries into the major's character had met with mixed results. Many former imperials seemed to respect the man due to him eliminating some disliked Moff. Not exactly the most encouraging of virtues, though further digging revealed the Moff in question had been throwing away men faster than a soldier goes through ammo clips, so it wasn't exactly damning either. His meetings with Quinn's former shipmates were more confusing still. Pierce had reacted with total disdain, and Broonmark had started howling and ranting about "cleansing the clan" and had to be tackled to the floor and sedated before he hurt somebody. Only Vette offered any real insight.

"I don't know how much Otienoh told you, and I'm not going to tell you anything he might not want you to hear. But I can say Quinn is arrogant, speciest, has a pole a mile long lodged up his exhaust port, and he's made some really bad mistakes. But deep down… he's trying to do the right thing. I don't like the man much, but I'd trust him to cover my butt in a firefight any day."

With all the mixed messages, Psawl decided he'd just need to get the feel for the man himself, so he scheduled a meeting in the detention area. When he informed Colonel Siwala of his brilliant plan, however, things went a bit south. He legitimately thought she was going to have a heart attack, or punch him, or something.

"With all due respect, commander, are you insane?!"

Psawl thought about that for a second. "No more than usual."

"You honestly want a private meeting with the man who, less than a week ago, planted and triggered an explosive in one of our shuttles, was complicit in the empire's plan to seize a weapon of mass destruction to use against _us_ , and has a known history of betrayal?"

"…Yes?"

Siwala sighed and held the bridge of her nose. "I can't stop you, can I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. But I'm going to oversee a few security arrangements fist."

And so here he was, in the detention center, surrounded by an excessive number of bodyguards, waiting for Quinn. Or rather, for the guard who would take him into the meeting room once Quinn was… secured.

"I feel ridiculous," he muttered to Siwala.

"Tough," she muttered back. "Part of my job is keeping you safe. You may be a Jedi, but you're not invincible."

"This is overkill. You just don't like the guy."

"You nearly died last week, sir. I don't think it's out of line to insist you have a little extra protection until you're back on form."

"'Little?'" he pouted, but begrudgingly admitted – to himself – that she may have had a point. Any retort from Siwala was cut off by the arrival of the guard.

"The prisoner is ready to see you, commander," she said. "If you'll follow me?" So, accompanied by his entourage of weapon-wielding mother nunas, he entered the room.

Major Quinn looked surprised when Psawl entered the room. The man had been sitting stiffly at the table with a carefully neutral expression when the door opened, but his eyes had gone wide when he caught sight of Psawl's face. He had quickly schooled his expression back to blank, but the flicker of astonishment was unmistakable.

"Good day, major," Psawl smiled cheerfully as he settled into the chair on the opposite side of the table. Quinn studied his face.

"Commander," Quinn nodded his head. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Psawl stretched his awareness in the Force to read the man's emotions. He had a solid, dependable presence, and Psawl had to fight his instinctual desire to relax and trust him. Got to keep on guard, after all. Quinn was curious, nervous, and guarded, but fortunately not afraid like he had been after his arrest.

Psawl folded his hands in front of him on the table. "As I'm sure Otienoh told you, I'm considering potentially granting you a pardon. So before I make my decision, I'd like to get to know you a bit."

The major stared at him in confusion. "Get to know…?" His eyes widened in understanding, and a wall closed around his mind. Impressive, for a non Force-sensitive. Psawl tested the barrier. He could break through it if he really wanted to, but he risked hurting the man if he tried. Psawl frowned.

"Quinn. I'm not going to probe your mind. I just need to know your feelings and intentions. Blocking me will only make me more reluctant to grant you your freedom."

Slowly, Quinn lowered his defenses." My apologies, commander. I suppose it's become a habit after working with the Sith for so long."

"I can imagine," Psawl said with a smile. "So, you served on Otienoh's ship?"

"That is correct, commander." When Psawl just continued smiling, Quinn elaborated. "I captained his vessel for several years, after assisting him in his missions on Balmorra, and being promoted from lieutenant."

"You were pretty old to still be a lieutenant, weren't you?"

"I… yes." A strange mix of shame, anger, and pride radiated from him as he answered. "I disobeyed the orders of a superior when they put the men and mission in jeopardy." He shuffled his feet. "My actions salvaged the mission, but my superior had me demoted and blocked any chance at upwards mobility for years." The rage sharpened into hatred, then cooled. "But that's in the past."

The way he said it was ominously final. Psawl hid a shudder, trying not to let himself imagine said superior's fate at the hands of a livid imperial officer, and a powerful Sith who was _very_ protective of his allies. He decided to change the subject.

"Your records indicate a deep dedication to the betterment of the Empire. So why abandon them now?"

Quinn's mind closed off again, though this time he seemed to be trying to stave off emotions he didn't want to feel himself, rather than specifically hiding them, so Psawl let it slide. The man's mind became cool and calculating as he probed the question for traps.

"I served Lord Otienoh for many years. He is an honorable man who wants the best for the Empire. If he follows you, I trust his judgment."

"And if he were to turn on me? What would you do?"

The room became dead silent. Quinn furrowed his brow as he considered the question. A maelstrom of emotions broke through his control, and he tamped them down, only for them to surge forward again. Now the major was afraid. He was conflicted, guilty, sickened, worried, frustrated at the unfairness of the question, and angry at himself for his hesitation. Finally, all of the strings of emotion coalesced into a knot of resignation. He lifted his chin and looked Psawl squarely in the eye.

"I would follow my lord's lead. I am his to command until the day I die." There were angry murmurs from the guards in the room, but Psawl silenced them with a sharp glance. Quinn was staring at his hands now, defeated.

"I appreciate your honesty," Psawl said, keeping his voice neutral. "Your loyalty is admirable." Quinn looked up, surprised. Psawl eyed him shrewdly. "What happened between you two, to inspire such devotion?"

Quinn's emotions were locked down tight once again. Only the barest hint of deep sadness and shame oozed through the cracks. "If my lord has not told you, then the details are not mine to give," he said finally. "Suffice it to say… this is not the first time Lord Otienoh has shown me mercy when I was undeserving. I owe him everything, and it is a debt I will never be able to truly repay."

And there it was. An honest answer. No attempts to hide it or pretty it up, subconscious or otherwise. Major Quinn's soul was finally laid bare before Psawl. It was ragged and broken, like so many souls that had been touched by the war. But it was solid, dependable, and honest, with strong dapples of light among the dark.

Psawl rose from his seat. "Thank you, Major Quinn. I think I have what I need." Psawl could feel through the Force that Quinn thought his fate sealed, but he drew up the strength to respond politely nevertheless.

"It was an honor and a privilege, commander. Thank you for your consideration."

Psawl hummed softly to himself as he left the detention block behind. He had to touch bases with Lana and Theron, of course, but he sensed he would have some release papers to sign very soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Nine days had passed since the commander awoke from his coma. Psawl was back in the midst of the fighting, but he was still not 100%, so Otienoh found himself taking up a lot of the slack. He was glad to, but it left him feeling exhausted and grumpy at the end of the day. Otienoh had been fighting back wave after wave of relentless droids and had the laser burns to show for it. He wanted nothing more than to go to his quarters, collapse into bed with his wife, and sleep for ten hours.

His plans changed when he opened his mail. Nestled amongst the routine thank-you notes from various people he had assisted and sketchy offers promising sums of credits in return for just a small down-payment was a forwarded message from Psawl. It was marked "urgent" and had a subject heading that consisted solely of a colon and right parenthesis. Otienoh opened it.

Inside was a security briefing from Theron Shan cataloguing the results of inquiries into assorted alliance personnel and contacts, most of which were marked "inconclusive." However, one line was highlighted. It read: " _Quinn, Malavai. Major. Imperial Military (defected). Multiple witnesses place him nowhere near the throne at the time of sabotage. Status: cleared._ " Attached was a message: "Otienoh. If I know you, by the time you get this the day will be nearly over. I requested the guards wait until evening to release Quinn, because I figured you might want to be the first to congratulate him. Yup. Consider your friend officially pardoned. No need to thank me, I already know I'm amazing. If you hurry you might catch him. Your illustrious commander and BFF :P –Psawl."

Without even stopping to scowl at the BFF crack, and without regard to his weariness, Otienoh took off like a shot for the detention center. He briefly considered stopping to find Vette and bring her with him, but decided he didn't want to risk missing Quinn. Besides, the man would likely speak more freely without the threat of her teasing hanging over his head.

Apparently, the guards at the front of the detention center weren't expecting anybody, because he caught them leaning against the wall, sipping caff, deep in conversation. They didn't even notice him until he cleared his throat pointedly.

"Oh! Sir!" The first guard exclaimed, fumbling his cup and grimacing as a small amount of the hot liquid sloshed over his hand. "Ah… What are you doing here?" Otienoh glared, distinctly unimpressed.

"My lord!" The other guard, a former imperial, recovered more gracefully and bowed. "I… imagine you're here after Major Quinn?"

"Indeed."

"Ah… I suspect he's in out processing by now, my lord. I can take you…"

"Do it."

"Very good. Right this way, my lord." He started leading him into the detention center. "Er… my lord?"

"Yes, I will be informing your superiors of your lapse."

The guard sighed in resignation. "Yes, my lord." The silence that followed was awkward, but Otienoh ignored it, intent only on finding Quinn. He was eager, and – though he'd never admit it – a bit nervous to meet casually with his former captain for the first time in six years.

They came upon Quinn as he was just being escorted out of the cell block, still straightening the sleeves of his newly-returned uniform jacket. As though sensing his presence, Quinn looked up and locked eyes with Otienoh. Both stood frozen.

"My lord, I…" Quinn started, bowing slightly at the waist. Otienoh gave into an impulse he seldom indulged. He stepped forward, and before Quinn could as much as blink, Otienoh had wrapped him in a huge bear hug.

When Otienoh pulled back, Quinn was staring at him, open-mouthed in shock. Otienoh suppressed a chuckle.

"My apologies for the breach in decorum, major," Otienoh said, nodding courteously to Quinn. "It's just good to have you back."

Quinn's incredulous expression slowly melted into relief, then pride, with just a touch of a smile on his lips. He straightened and returned the nod. "It's good to be back, my lord."

By this point, both of their escorts had made a discreet exit, and it was just the two of them. Quinn cleared his throat, emboldened by the relative privacy. "Honestly, my lord, after the commander interviewed me, I'm a bit surprised he didn't lock me in the smallest cell he could find and throw away the key."

"No, that's where Saresh is," Otienoh replied; only half-joking, but Quinn smirked nonetheless.

"I had heard about that. Good riddance."

"Indeed," Otienoh replied, giving a feral smile, but a moment later he sobered. "What possible cause would Psawl have to lock you away?"

Quinn glanced away. "Most of his questions were typical. Ones I was prepared to answer. But one question…"

"Yes?"

Quinn licked his lips. "He asked me what I would do if you ever betrayed him. I told him my loyalties lay with you."

There was a pregnant pause, and then Otienoh chuckled. "Quinn," he said with a fond smile. "You've come so far."

Quinn glanced up in confusion. "My lord?"

"Psawl is not worried for one moment that I'll betray him. After the trials and temptations we've faced together, he trusts me with his life, as I trust him with mine." He smiled ruefully. "Not something I ever expected to say, especially about a Jedi, but there you have it." He caught Quinn's eye again. "Psawl knew already where your loyalties lie. What he wanted to know was whether you had the integrity to admit it, even when that admission could hurt you. You didn't with Baras, but now you do. I'm proud of you, Quinn."

Quinn lowered his eyes, ashamed. "I don't deserve it."

"Perhaps not," Otienoh agreed. "But to quote a certain obnoxiously cheerful commander, 'The Alliance is a second chance for anyone willing to serve.'"

Quinn finally smiled fully. "So… what next, my lord?"

"Well, you should probably get settled in your quarters, and then if you'd like I could introduce you to a few of my new associates."

"A colorful lot, from what I've seen," Quinn interjected. Otienoh grinned.

"You have no idea. Vette will want to say 'hello.' Broonmark is back on Odessen, so you don't have to worry about him yet. Pierce _is_ here, however. He's the same rank as you, and technically has seniority now, so you may want to give him a bit of a berth for a while."

"I'll take that under advisement, my lord." And so, the Sith warrior and the imperial officer walked off into the evening air, allies once more.


End file.
